One Man's Island

by Thomas J. Wolfenden

  “How the fuck do I know you’re really a Sergeant Major?” he screamed, swinging the rifle from the hip at Holly and Izzy, and that did it for Tim.

  He wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the last few days or the lack of sleep, but something inside of him just snapped. He lowered his rifle and stood, exposing himself to the Marine. “Because here’s why, you little sorry-assed, cum-stained, needle-dicked poor excuse for a fuckstick! If you don’t take your booger-hook from that bang-switch, in three fucking seconds, exactly three fucking seconds, I will come over there, take it off of you, shove it up your ass, and break it off, and then beat you to death with the butt! Have I made myself perfectly fucking clear on the issue, dimwit?”

  Everyone could see the color drain from the Marine’s face. He wavered for a second, and then lowered his rifle.

  “Yeah, you’re a Sergeant Major alright,” he said. Tim walked over to him and took the weapon from his hand.

  “Sit the fuck down, and put your fucking hands on your head, shit for brains,” he ordered. He did what he was told very rapidly, and Robyn came out of cover and walked slowly towards him, never taking her sights from him.

  “Cover him, Robyn,” he said.” He makes a move, ventilate him!”

  “Now wait a—”

  “Did I say you could speak? No? Shut the fuck up then!”

  Izzy looked like he was going to faint, and Holly came up to him. “Tim, how did you find us?”

  “I followed a trail of crumbs,” he smirked.

  Holly looked over at him. “Well at least you didn’t call him a pompous British fuck!” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. He savored the kiss for a moment, then broke away.

  “So, tell me what went down.”

  “Iz and I were heading over the loop, and we stopped for a rest. We were there for a few minutes and I heard the engines. We turned off when I saw the signs for the Air Force base, and just followed the engine noise to the hangar. We pulled up, and this man shut the engines down, came out started yelling at us, and pointed the rifle at us. That’s when you showed up.”

  “Are you two okay now?” he asked. They both nodded. Holly got some water from her Hum-Vee, and walked over to Izzy, giving it to him. Tim turned to the very scared Lance Corporal. “Okay, shit for brains. What’s your claim to fame?”

  “Sar’ Major, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know who the lady was.”

  “The ‘lady’ is a commissioned officer in Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force, and will be shown due respect according to her rank, is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “And don’t call me fucking sir! I’m not a fucking jarhead, I work for a goddamn living. Get on with your story.”

  “Ever since, well, everyone just died, I had nothing to do see? So this is my aircraft. I’m an aircraft engine mechanic. But I know the whole airframe, inside and out cuz’ I watched the other guys at work, you know?”

  “Yeah, yeah get on with it.”

  “I moved in here, and with nothing to do, I just worked on the plane, keeping her running tip-top.”

  “You’re telling me this plane is ready to fly right now?”

  “Fuck yeah, sir! I mean Sar’ Major. She’s ready. I’ve even taxied her out and around the apron a few times. She’s ready to fly.”

  “So you’re telling me, for the last five and a half years, you’ve been here, just tinkering around with this airplane?”

  He shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby.”

  Tim rolled his eyes and turned to Holly. “What do you think, Lieutenant?”

  “I don’t know, Sergeant Major,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll have to check her out myself.”

  “Well you do that, ma’am, and we’ll wait here for your report if that’s fine with the lieutenant.” She went off to the rear of the aircraft, and disappeared inside through a hatch in the side, one that Tim was very familiar with, one he’d always left from, but never entered. “Corporal?” he said to Robyn. “Why don’t you go with the Lieutenant, and make sure she’s okay.” Robyn took off in a run to catch up with Holly. When she was out of sight, Tim again turned to the scared Marine.

  “Now riddle me this, Batman. If you’re a jarhead, why are you at an Air Force base working on Air Force planes?” he asked skeptically, one hand on his hip, the other on the side of the aircraft.

  “I’m reserve, Sar’ Major. This squadron was down one mechanic, so my unit loaned me to them. I worked over at Sky Harbor for Southwest.”

  “Well, you look like a fucking mess. You said you’ve been living here?”

  “Yes. I’ve got a cot set up in the back in the office. It’s better than the barrio, eh?”

  Tim glared at him and said nothing for a bit. “Do you have uniforms and all your shit?”

  “Yes, sir, I mean Sar’ Major.”

  “If I let you go back and get yourself cleaned up and into a proper uniform, you aren’t going to try anything hinkey on me, are you?”

  “Fuck no! I’m so happy to see you guys!”

  “You didn’t look too happy a while ago, when you were pointing a loaded rifle at my friends.”

  “I’m sorry Sar’ Major! I didn’t know who they were, and that lady with the funny accent and flight suit, I thought they were terrorists or something!”

  “You thought they were terrorists?” Tim laughed. “It’s a long time past for those. Okay, here’s the deal. You go off to your rat hole and get your shit together. Come back to me in thirty minutes looking like a Marine, got that?”

  The man nodded. “You got it, Sar’ Major!”

  “My watch is ticking!” Tim said, and the man took off in a dash. “And do something with that shit on your face!” he called after him. Tim turned around to Izzy, who was leaning against the tug, drinking a bottle of water. It wasn’t even noon yet, and it was already hot.

  “You sure do have a way with people, Tim,” Izzy chuckled.

  “Fear is a great motivator for the troops, especially when it’s fear of severe bodily injury, caused by a slightly upset Sergeant Major.”

  “It takes me back to the Academy,” Izzy said.

  Tim walked over to him and sat down on the tug, tilting his patrol cap back on his head.

  “What do you think, Tim?” Izzy asked.

  “I think our flight leftenant has found your ticket to Volivoli,” Tim said, as Holly and Robyn came out of the aircraft and walked over to them.

  “Where’s that dude?” Robyn asked, lifting her rifle. Tim told her, and she lowered her rifle, but was still a little wary.

  “I think it will work,” Holly said.

  “You can’t fly this straight there, can you?”

  “No, it doesn’t have the range. We can fly to Hickam in Hawaii first, and refuel there. I did the calculations already. It’s 2,900 miles from here to Honolulu, roughly. This has a range, empty mind you, of 5,200 miles. Even if we take the vehicle, we will be okay fuel wise.”

  “Vehicles,” he corrected her.

  “Both of them?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Dad, if you do that, how will—” and then it dawned on her what he was inferring. “Oh, Daddy!” she exclaimed, and rushed up to hug him.

  “So, I take it you’re coming with us?” Holly asked.

  “In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. Besides, it looks like you guys need me around for protection anyway.”

  Izzy shook his hand, and Holly came up and wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him hard. “I had a dream last night that you were following us, coming to find us.”

  “Well, I must be a glutton for punishment,” he said, and she smacked him on the arm playfully. “When are we leaving?”

  “We’ll have to top off her fuel, a few hours maybe?”

  “I was just thinking of something. That would be around two or three this afternoon. How long will it take to fly there?”

  “About five or six hours, I think.”

  �
�With the time difference and everything, that would put us at Hickam somewhere around midnight local time.”

  “I see what you mean,” she said.

  “What, Daddy?” Robyn asked.

  “It’s be dark there, honey. No runway lights and no air traffic controllers to guide us in.”

  “So we wait until early tomorrow morning?” Holly said.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Tim said, wondering what in the hell he was doing. “Robyn, go back, and bring our Hum-Vee up here. We’ll stay the night.”

  “Okay,” she said, and trotted off.

  Holly turned to him and said, “Tim, you’re giving up a lot. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. But I figure you can always fly us back once you’re settled,” he said with a wink. “Besides, I think it’s about time I cashed in my Frequent Flyer points on a South Pacific vacation.” He then saw Jimenez walking towards them, in a very military manner. He marched up to them, stood at attention, and reported for duty.

  “At ease, Lance Corporal, you look very squared away now. What did you do to your hair?” Tim said, noticing that the long locks the man had sported a short while ago were now gone, only bare skin showed from under his ‘cover’, as the Marines called their caps.

  “I gave myself a haircut and a shave like you said, Sar’ Major.”

  “Well, I do believe you’re now in regulations. We’re taking your plane, Lance Corporal. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, sir, not at all. I’d love to see her fly!” he said. Tim ignored the ‘Sir’.

  “I’m so pleased that we have your approval. We’ll be staying the night, and leaving first thing in the morning. Can you refuel it?”

  “Sure thing, Sar’ Major!” he said with a big grin.

  “Then do it.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Let’s go back to the office and see what’s around, shall we?” Tim said to Holly and Izzy as Robyn pulled up with the other Hum-Vee.

  She walked over to them, and asked, “Where’s that squirrelly guy going?”

  “He’s going to get some more go-juice for the bird. We were just walking to the back to nose around.” They walked to the rear of the hangar, and through a door into a cool air conditioned room with the fluorescent lights on. They could hear a generator humming somewhere. There was a huge counter, and Holly walked over to it and began paging through a large book. Tim went over to a refrigerator, and found it stocked with Dos Equis beer.

  “At least the kid has his priorities.” Tim took one and cracked it open.

  “Tim, this is amazing,” Holly said. “He’s kept all the maintenance records for the aircraft for over the past five years. According to this, it’s one of the best maintained birds I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well, everyone needs a hobby,” he said, repeating what Jimenez said earlier. There was a couch and a desk, and Tim sat at the desk with his feet up. Izzy and Robyn sat on the couch, and Holly sat on the edge of the desk.

  Jimenez came in after a while, sweating. “I’ve got the bird all fueled up, 8,000 gallons worth.”

  “Good,” Tim said, pulling on his beer. “Where do you sleep?”

  “In there,” he said, pointing to another door.

  “Alright, tonight the ladies will sleep in here, and the rest of us will utilize the fine luxury web seating the US government has provided for our comfort and relaxation on the plane.”

  They settled in, and later that afternoon ate MRE’s and drank more of Jimenez’ beer, except for Holly, who was following a strict twelve-hour rule of no booze before flying. Shortly after sundown they turned in for the night, but none of them really slept well. Tim, lying on his side, thought about Holly and wanted to go in and hold her, but there was really no place for privacy. Besides, he wanted her rested if she was actually going to fly this thing tomorrow. They woke before sunup, and Tim and Jimenez made short work of loading the Hum-Vees into the cargo compartment and shackling them down to the deck. Jimenez then towed he aircraft out further away from the hangar, and when everyone was on board, he shut the cargo ramp in the rear. Tim followed Holly up to the cockpit, and she sat in the left seat like she’d been doing it for years, which she had. She took a set of headphones and put them on, and as Tim climbed into the right seat, she motioned for him to do the same. When he had it plugged in, he heard her voice in the speakers.

  “These are so we can hear each other talk. You want to talk to me, just press the button on the left side of the yoke.”

  “Check!” he said, pressing the button.

  “Here goes nothing!” she said.

  Tim looked over the instrument panel completely lost, and he was glad she knew what she was doing. Each Allison turboprop engine, one by one, whined to life. When all of them were warmed up, and all her gauges looked normal, Holly released the brakes and the plane began to move. She taxied the plane across several taxiways until she found the end of the runway. When the nose of the big plane was dead center, pointed right down the runway, she looked over at Tim, and winked. Tim gave an uneasy smile and a thumb up as she knocked off the brakes and throttled up the engines to full power. They screamed to life, and the plane rolled faster and faster down the runway. Tim got a little nervous when it looked like they were rapidly running out of runway, and looked over at Holly again, who was deep in concentration. In what seemed like the last minute, she pulled back hard on the yoke, and the plane virtually leapt into the air, climbing higher and higher, at what seemed like to Tim an almost 45 degree angle. All he could see ahead of them were a few puffy clouds, and blue early morning sky. She leveled out some a few minutes later, but he could still feel the Hercules climbing higher. He then heard her voice again through the headphones.

  “We’ll climb out to thirty thousand feet, and level off. I’ve got the cabin pressurized now, so it should be a decent ride!”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m used to being in the back in these things,” he said to her.

  “Fly the friendly skies!” she said with a wide smile, and Tim smiled back, wondering why he was even doing this.

  Chapter 19: Aloha Haole!

  They had been in the air for about an hour and were flying along smoothly. Tim looked out and down at the ground so far below. They’d be reaching the coast soon, he thought, and keyed up his mike to talk to Holly.

  “So, I take it the kid’s PM was pretty good?”

  “Aye, he’s done a good job. Everything’s running fine. I think the climate of Luke helped a lot too,” she said.

  “Yeah, the desert is good for that. There’s a big airplane graveyard down near Tucson where they stored retired aircraft.”

  “Aye, Davis-Monthan Air Force Base. I always wanted to go and just walk around there.” She went to get up, and saw the look on his face, and she smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the autopilot on!” She unstrapped from her seat and went to the rear, where the latrine was.

  Tim just stared at everything, not daring to touch a thing. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw Robyn standing there wide-eyed. He pulled the headset off one ear, and she leaned forward. “Are you flying this?”

  “No, baby! Holly’s just gone to the bathroom. The autopilot is on.”

  “That’s good, because I didn’t see any parachutes!”

  “Oh, so now you’re a comedian?”

  “Daddy, it’s really loud back there!” she said crossly.

  “Go ask that Jimenez joker where the earplugs are. I forgot about the noise. There should be a little box of disposable earplugs somewhere along either side of the cargo hold.”

  “Okay!” she said, and kissed him, disappearing to the rear. Tim was still looking out the windows, and saw the Pacific Ocean and the California coast dead ahead. He caught movement again, and Holly came back and flopped into the pilot’s seat, strapping herself back in.

  “Looks like we’ll be over water soon,” he commented.

  “Aye, and you didn’t touch anything!”
r />   “Is everybody a smartass this morning?” he asked

  He remembered something, and reached into his pocket, bringing out a few folded pieces of paper, handing it over to Holly. She opened the pages for a moment, and shot a look at Tim. “How did you get these?” she asked.

  “That is your island, right?”

  The papers that Tim gave her, printed out on a LaserJet printer, showed it was her island, an atoll really, with an opening to the sea directly west from a wide lagoon in its center. It was circular, about two miles wide, and the land area was about four hundred yards wide and shaped like the letter “C”. The runway of crushed coral, laid down so many years ago by US Navy SeaBees, cut through one end and jutted out into the sea on either end. It looked like it hadn’t been used in quite a while, as it was strewn with dead palm fronds from end to end, but she figured she’d still be able to land on it, because the Hercules was designed to take off and land on short, expedient strips like this. There was a coral reef that almost completely surrounded the atoll, with a channel cut into it to let ships enter the lagoon from the gap in the west side. The island was completely covered in coconut palms, save for the runway, but in this photograph she could clearly make out the two concrete structures near one end of the runway that had a long pier running out into the lagoon, another leading out to the reef, and two large fuel storage tanks. She could also see the narrow road that circled the island, only broken by the runway and the gap into the sea, and here and there, she could make out the shadows of all the bunkers, hidden away in the trees. The last thing it showed was a ship, obviously run aground and split in two, on the south side of the island. It showed what looked like its cargo of cars and SUVs spilled out into the sea around the gaping hole where it broke apart.

  “It is what you said it was. ‘MPPSD, Volivoli. It’s not on any other listing, except for one small one on the US Navy Weather Service as a weather station. It seems like everyone at the Pentagon forgot all about this tiny little place.”

  “MPPSD, what’s that?” she asked.

  “It stands for Military Pre-Position Supply Depot,” he said.

  “But, Tim, the date-stamp on this photograph—”